


Flames

by TragicLove



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:02:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragicLove/pseuds/TragicLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2524493">Left</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Flames

She opened the front door to her house and before she even had it shut his hands were on the side of her face, fingers tangled in her hair.

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._

Her lips were cold and wet from the rain but they warmed him from the inside out.  
She pushed his coat off his shoulders and he shrugged out of it, letting it hit the floor. He lifted her shirt over her head and dropped it along with the coat. 

_I’m sorry I’m sorry, can you forgive me?_

He lifted her easily, somethings never change, and she wrapped her long legs around his waist. He made his way, in the dark, to her bedroom. He’d never forget the layout of this place, he’d never forget what it   
used to feel like when they’d spend days wrapped up in soft white blankets, legs tangled, an easy silence in the air, so easy just to be. 

_Can we just go back, can we just forget?_

He dropped her onto the bed, she sat up and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down his legs while he ripped his shirt over his head, they landed in a pile together on the floor. She reached for him, wrapping her slender fingers around his wrist and pulling him down on top of her. She ran her fingertips up his arm, over his shoulder, over his neck. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him softly, slowly. 

_I’m sorry I’m sorry, I need you so badly._

 

\-----

 

Sunlight crept into the room, the yellow paint on the walls illuminated by it. Harry opened one eye, then another, and his vision focused on a cat perched on his chest.

“’lo, Olivia Benson,” he whispered.

“Morning,” came a voice from beside him. She was leaning against the headboard, a book balanced on her legs.

“Hi.”

“Did you sleep well?” 

“Very,” he replied, pulling himself up to rest his back on the headboard beside her.

“I’m glad you came here,” she said, placing her book on the end table by the bed. She turned her body so she was completely facing him, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he smiled, reaching across to brush a curly strand of hair behind her ear, “a lot.”

“Are you going to stay this time?”

“Do you want me to?”

“More than anything,” she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. 

 

They spent the day in bed, wrapped up in a cozy white blanket, legs tangled together. They ordered pizza from the place a couple of blocks over and ate it straight out of the box, laughing when Harry dropped a blob of sauce down his bare chest. They made love after that, Taylor taking good care to make sure all traces of the sauce were gone. And then they made love again in the shower, and again before bed.

 

Harry watched her sleeping that night, taking in the rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips parted just slightly, her head turned into him. He ran a hand over her cheek and leaned down to kiss her on the head. He whispered that he’d stay this time, that he’d get it right, and he almost believed it himself. 

 

\-----

“Did you see it?” Her voice came through the speaker on his phone.

“Well, hello to you, too,” he chuckled.

“Did you?”

“Did I see what?”

“TMZ, Harry,” she sighed into the phone, he could almost see her in his mind, sitting on the sofa in her living room, one leg tucked up underneath her. She always sat there when she was talking on the phone.   
Sometimes he knew her like the back of his hand.

“Why would I look at TMZ?”

“Maybe because you’re on it, with her,” her voice hilted a bit.

“Who?” Harry asked. He put his phone on speaker and loaded up TMZ. And she was right, there he was, leaned in close, the pretty brunette talking in his ear. “Oh,” he said.

“Yeah, oh,” Taylor repeated, hanging up on him.

 

\-----

 

She wasn’t answering his calls. She always answered his calls, even when she was busy, even when she shouldn’t. He got in his car and made the two block drive to her house, the lights were all off, but he could see the flashing of the TV coming from her bedroom window. He turned left into her driveway and parked his car, he made the short walk up to the door and let himself in with the key she had given him just a short month earlier. He could hear her murmuring from her bedroom, he made his way there and stopped in the doorway. She looked up at him and frowned.

“I have to go, he’s here,” she said into her phone, said goodbye and hung up, tossing it onto her end table, “what are you doing here?”

“You wouldn’t answer my calls.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you.” She said, not breaking eye contact with him.

“Nothing happened with that girl, nothing is going on,” he moved towards her, stopping at the side of her bed, looking down at her. 

“Nothing ever happens, and nothing is ever going on. This is the same bullshit from before, Harry. You said it would be different this time, but it isn’t, it’s never different.”

“It is,” he said, sitting down next do her. He put a hand on her knee and moved his thumb in little circles, “I swear it is.”

“It isn’t, this isn’t going to work, we were stupid to think this was going to work.”

“It can,” 

“It can’t. I believed you, I wanted to believe you. But, it’s never going to happen, you and me, we can’t be anything. It’s just not in the cards for us.”

“We’re everything,” he whispered, moving his hand up her arm and resting it on her cheek, “you just have to believe that.”

She locked her eyes with him, she looked like she was searching in them for something, for an answer, for a reason to stay or to go or to hold on. She dropped her eyes and took his hand, moving it from her face.   
“I can’t, Harry,” she said, “I want to, but I can’t.”

They sat there in silence for what felt like hours. Him staring at her face, begging her with his eyes just to look at him, because if she just looked at him he knew he could make her believe, he knew he could make her come back to him, and her looking everywhere but at him, knowing that if she did she would crumble, she’d fall into his arms and they’d just continue on this loop forever.

“Do you want me to leave?” He finally spoke softly.

She nodded, finally looking at him, her gaze not quite reaching his eyes.

So he did.

 

\-----

Sometimes when his phone would ring in the middle of the night he’d jump up to grab it, thinking it might be her. But, it never was. He kept tabs on everything she was doing, and he was never for a minute not proud of the things she’s done, but he knew she was right. They were like moths to a flame. They were drawn together every time, knowing that in the end they’d get burned. They could never make it work, he was always on the road and when he wasn’t she was. Nothing in either of their lives was private, they had eyes watching them all the time, everywhere they went. He missed her, he missed her so bad it hurt right in the middle of his chest, a ball so tight it felt like a fist, gripping and turning, trying to rip his heart clear out. 

So sometimes, when he’d had a particularly bad night, when maybe he’d had just one too many, or he saw a girl out who had the same blonde shade of hair as her or the same red shade of lipstick on that she always wore, he’d get in the car and he’d drive past her house. He’d go over all of the things he wanted to say to her in his head that he knew he never would, but from here on out he’d always keep driving straight, he’d never turn left again.


End file.
